


we bleed the same blood, my love

by aloeverava



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, M/M, Oops, angst ft The Knee, literally just angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:19:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25124542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aloeverava/pseuds/aloeverava
Summary: “Oikawa Tooru, I love you,” he starts. “But I will leave your fucking ass if you don’t get out of this bed and learn to use those crutches.”
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 13
Kudos: 66
Collections: ☆彡 ask box fics





	we bleed the same blood, my love

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to alex for the inspo and risse for beta reading!
> 
> hi this hurt to write, i hope it hurts to read as well :,)

“Did you think I wanted this?” Tooru’s voice almost cracks on the last word as he gestures to himself, bedridden and pathetic.

“No, Tooru, please just listen to me instead of—”

“Instead of _what_?” He snarls. “Getting angry? Don’t I have a right to be angry, though?”

“Baby, of course, you do—”

“‘Baby,’” The other mocks. “You only call me that when you want me to shut up, you know that?”

Sighing, Hajime sits down onto the edge of the bed, wary. “Where is this coming from, Tooru?” He’s patient, unyielding. Sure, he’s angry too, but it’s always him who has to keep his calm, to bring Tooru back down to earth.

“Tooru.”

He doesn’t reply.

“ _Oikawa_ , I know it’s unfair. And I wasn’t blaming you for it being unfair, I was just stating a fact.”

“Yeah, like telling your boyfriend that he needs to ‘do something with his life’ is stating a fact,” Tooru grumbles, crossing his arms.

Shifting himself into Tooru’s line of sight, careful not to prod his knee, Hajime gently takes a hand and turns his boyfriend’s cheek to look him in the eyes. When Tooru doesn’t protest, at least not aloud, he lets his hand drop. Glaring at the man beside him tearfully, Tooru sniffles softly. His adam’s apple bobs in an effort to hold back the tidal wave threatening to spill from his eyes.

Hajime knows he is trying so, so hard not to break.

But sometimes that’s what someone needs—to let go.

“Oikawa Tooru, I love you,” he starts. “But I will leave your fucking ass if you don’t get out of this bed and learn to use those crutches.”

Now the tears of frustration are cascading freely down Oikawa’s face, forming tiny rivers on his cheeks. In a strange way, they’re beautiful, Hajime thinks. But he thought everything about Tooru was beautiful, after all. Even when Oikawa’s chest struggles to fight out his next words, he finds the man beautiful.

“No,” Tooru breathes. “I can’t.”

Hajime takes one look at his face, and it is the final straw. He misses seeing him happy. He misses seeing him whole. He misses the boy who chased volleyball until his body gave out, the boy who didn’t stop chasing it, even when his body did.

He misses the love of his life.

“Tooru, goddammit, this is why I said what I did! Because you need to hear it! If you can’t pick your sorry ass up, then I’m done. I can’t sit here and watch you destroy your—”

“Then leave.”

Tooru is no longer looking at his lover. Now he stares at the hole in the wall opposite of him, the hole he had punched when the doctor had first told him of his diagnosis.

“W-What?” Hajime stutters.

“If it pains you that much to watch me waste away, then _leave_ ,” he spits. Gone are the tears, evaporated by the fiery heat of hatred in Tooru’s eyes.

_His words spear a knife through Hajime’s chest._

“I…”

_He grips the knife with both hands. He twists._

“Fine, then. If that’s what you want, Oikawa.”

_There is blood spreading rapidly from the wound, coating his chest. When he turns to give his lover a final glance, he sees the same crimson pouring in rivulets from his eyes._

Hajime opens his mouth, then closes it.

“Go on, what are you waiting for?” Tooru’s stare is piercing and cold, pinning Hajime in place, as if challenging him to retort. Hajime can only meet his gaze briefly before his eyes flick down to Tooru’s knee—the knee that ended more than just volleyball for Tooru, the knee that ended their lives as they knew it.

Hajime urges the words to come out.

_I’m waiting for you to come back._

“ _Leave_ , goddammit—” Tooru’s voice breaks along with Hajime’s heart.

_The knife sharpens, plunging itself back into his chest again. And again. And again. He can’t take it anymore._

Hajime turns and doesn’t look back.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos appreciated, as always :)
> 
> twitter: glutenfreeroach  
> ko-fi: aloeverava  
> tumblr: hairbleachwhore


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